The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, Volumen4Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate, next Grays-Inn Lane., 1709 |
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Página 1538
... Warwick , Earl of Salisbury , Earl of Pembroke , Lord Haftings , Lord Stafford , Sir John Mortimer , Sir Hugh Mortimer , of the Duke of York's Party . Unkles to the Duke of York . Sir William Stanley , afterwards Earl of Derby . Lord ...
... Warwick , Earl of Salisbury , Earl of Pembroke , Lord Haftings , Lord Stafford , Sir John Mortimer , Sir Hugh Mortimer , of the Duke of York's Party . Unkles to the Duke of York . Sir William Stanley , afterwards Earl of Derby . Lord ...
Página 1539
... Warwick , and Soldiers . WARWICK . Wonder how the King efcap'd our Hands ? York . While we purfu'd the Horfemen of the North , He flily ftole away , and left his Men : Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland , Whofe warlike Ears could ...
... Warwick , and Soldiers . WARWICK . Wonder how the King efcap'd our Hands ? York . While we purfu'd the Horfemen of the North , He flily ftole away , and left his Men : Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland , Whofe warlike Ears could ...
Página 1540
... Warwick , and I will ; For hither we have broken in by force . Norf . We'll all affift you ; he that flies fhall die . Tork . Thanks , gentle Norfolk ; stay by me my Lords , And Soldiers ftay and lodge by me this Night . [ They go up ...
... Warwick , and I will ; For hither we have broken in by force . Norf . We'll all affift you ; he that flies fhall die . Tork . Thanks , gentle Norfolk ; stay by me my Lords , And Soldiers ftay and lodge by me this Night . [ They go up ...
Página 1541
... Warwick fhall difprove it . You forget , That we are thofe which chas'd you from the Field , And flew your Fathers , and with Colours fpread March'd threw the City to the Palace Gates . B 3 North . • North . Yes , Warwick , I remember ...
... Warwick fhall difprove it . You forget , That we are thofe which chas'd you from the Field , And flew your Fathers , and with Colours fpread March'd threw the City to the Palace Gates . B 3 North . • North . Yes , Warwick , I remember ...
Página 1542
... Warwick , I remember it to my grief . And by his Soul , thou and thy Houfe fhall rue it . Weft . Plantagenet , of thee and thefe thy Sons , Thy Kinfmen , and thy Friends , I'll have more lies Than drops of Blood were in my Father's ...
... Warwick , I remember it to my grief . And by his Soul , thou and thy Houfe fhall rue it . Weft . Plantagenet , of thee and thefe thy Sons , Thy Kinfmen , and thy Friends , I'll have more lies Than drops of Blood were in my Father's ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Calchas Caufe Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Coufin Crown Curfe Death defire Diomede doth Duke Duke of York e'er Edward Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes fafe faid Farewel Father fear felf felves fent fhall fhew fhould flain fome fpeak Friends ftand ftay ftill fuch fweet give Goths Grace Haftings Hand hath hear Heart Heav'n Hector Henry himſelf Honour i'th King Lady Lavinia lefs Lord Lord Chamberlain Love Lucius Madam Martius moft morrow muft muſt Noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Peace pleaſe pleaſure pray prefent Priam Prince Queen Reafon reft Rich Rome ſhall Soul ſpeak Sword Tears tell thee thefe Ther theſe thine thofe thou art Titus Titus Andronicus Tongue Troi Troilus unto Vlyf Warwick whofe
Pasajes populares
Página 1630 - Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
Página 1774 - This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Página 1776 - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...
Página 1859 - That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O ! let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was ; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded...
Página 1567 - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many years...
Página 1777 - Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Página 1839 - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
Página 1775 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Página 1782 - O, father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
Página 1749 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.